


Sonnets

by britishmenaredestroyingmylife



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Erotic Poetry, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Poetry, References to Shakespeare, Sex, Sexual Content, Shakespearean Sonnets, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishmenaredestroyingmylife/pseuds/britishmenaredestroyingmylife





	Sonnets

We closed the library early that day. It wasn’t a huge hardship, given that it was summer and a Friday; we just kicked out the very few students who were milling around about two hours earlier than usual, at six. Our special guest was due to arrive at seven.

Two of my student workers stayed with me; when he still hadn’t shown at eight, I went ahead and dismissed them, as they had done more than enough and I had no idea if he would even come at all at that point. I was getting a bit irritated, as it had been a long week and I wanted nothing more than to go home, shower, and curl up on the couch with a book.

The library was completely empty now. Except for me. I puttered around, tidying up; I was organizing some of the returns the kids hadn’t gotten to when my cell phone rang.

“This is Lily.”

“Hi, Lily, this is Tom Hiddleston.” I was surprised that he was the one calling; for the past few weeks I’d only spoken to “his people.” “I’m actually outside the library now and the door’s locked. Could you kindly let me in?”

“Certainly, sir, I’ll be right there.” I hung up and headed for the front doors, my high heels clicking against the smooth marble of the floors. I opened the door and was surprised to see him standing there, alone, no “people,” no escort – nothing. Just him.

He stepped inside and shook my hand. “Lily, so great to meet you. I’m so, so sorry for my tardiness, I actually had some car trouble if you can believe it, so I took a cab here.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks, and I know how hard it is to schedule things like this. It’s definitely an opportunity I did not want to pass up.” He flashed me a brilliant smile. “Again, I do apologize for making you wait.”

“No problem at all, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Please call me Tom.”

I nodded. I was trying not to blatantly check him out, but the man was gorgeous – easily over six feet tall, lean, blue eyes, wavy hair, cheekbones you could cut a finger on.

_Mmmm…_

“Come with me, Tom. We keep the Quarto in the basement.”

I unlocked the door that led down into our Rare Books collection. Students weren’t permitted down here without a special approved pass, and even professors had to sign up to schedule time with specific texts. The college was doing this as a favor, since Tom was such a huge fan of Shakespeare… and also because he’d made a significant donation to the school for the privilege of viewing the Quarto.

The faintly musty smell of old books wafted up to meet us as we went down the stairs. The basement was small, windowless, and climate-controlled, with just two work tables and a few bookcases that housed some of the rarest editions of the greatest works of literature in history. I loved coming down here; it was always so quiet, so peaceful, and I felt like I was surrounded by very old friends. I breathed deeply, savoring the scent of the pages, then briskly walked over to the area where we kept the Sonnets.

“So, Lily, how long have you worked here?”

“A little over ten years now. I started as a student.” I smiled at him as I gently lifted the book and brought it over to one of the tables. “Why don’t you have a seat, Tom?”

His eyes were glued to the Quarto as I placed it on the table, and I heard a sharp intake of breath.

“May I… can I…?”

“Yes, you can go ahead and open it.”

“Do I need… gloves or something?”

 _Were his hands trembling?_  “No, we used to use gloves, but they’re more trouble than they’re worth. Easier to tear a page with gloves. Please, go ahead.”

I watched as he opened it up and ran his hand over the delicate paper. He was mesmerized, staring down at the dedication page as if he were looking at something sacred.

I smiled. Maybe I could forgive him for being late.

I sat down next to him and looked down at the book with affection. Although Shakespeare wasn’t my favorite writer, I did enjoy the Sonnets, and I could appreciate anyone who loved literature as much as Tom clearly did. He was silent as he reverently turned the pages, gently fingering the edges, savoring the tactile sensations of the Quarto.

“This… is incredible,” he breathed.

“It is, isn’t it? You’re holding history in your hands.”

He shook his head. “I am so glad I was able to come. Just amazing. God, look at this. This is one of the poems I read for that book – ‘ _Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment’…_ ”

I let my eyes close as I listened to his voice caress the words, lyrical and soothing. This had been my mother’s favorite, and she had recited it to me when I was a child; it always felt comforting, but coming from his lips, I could appreciate more the romance and deep love behind the poetry.

“… _‘If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved,_ ’” he finished, softly. I suddenly realized I’d been mouthing the words along with him, and I opened my eyes. He was no longer looking at the book, but at me.

I bit my lip. “That was a beautiful reading, Tom.”

“Thank you, darling.”

 _Darling. I like that._  I gave my head a little shake. Back to reality.

“Tom, do you mind if I just do a bit of tidying around here?”

“Not at all.”

I stood up and walked to the small closet in the corner where we kept the few cleaning supplies that we could use down here. Nothing harsh or filled with chemicals – just a simple broom, a feather duster, and some paper towels. I grabbed the duster and started to brush it over the spines of the books.

“Lily.”

“Yes?” I didn’t look at him.

“Do you mind if I read out loud? I just… I really feel that so much of Shakespeare needs to be heard in order to be appreciated. It’s like music.”

I nodded. “That’s fine, Tom.”

I went around the room, carefully cleaning the books, while his voice filled the room with sonnets. His tone was loving and gentle and I knew exactly what he meant – Shakespeare  _needed_ to be read out loud. It was not the same as just silently reading it.

It needed to be recited, and by someone who knew how. Tom clearly fit the bill.

After about a half hour, I put the duster away and sat back down next to Tom. He was still reciting, and with the warmth of his body in such close proximity to mine – in conjunction with his voice – I felt my cunt clench the slightest bit, arousal beginning to course through me. I bit my lip, willing the feeling to go away.  _So inappropriate_ , my better judgment chastised.

Tom stopped reading and and looked at me again, his eyes hooded. He clasped my hand and brought it to his lips.

“Lily… thank you for this.”

“Oh – were you done?” A twinge of disappointment must’ve flickered across my face, because he gave me a slight smile.

“Not really, but I thought you might want to get home. I don’t want to keep you here too late.”

“No, Tom, it’s… fine. Take all the time you need. Honestly, I’ve never really heard anyone recite poetry like this before.” I shrugged. “It’s incredibly sexy.”

He cocked an eyebrow as I realized what I’d said.

“Oh – er – I misspoke, I didn’t mean sexy, I just meant – I meant that I didn’t really appreciate the romance behind the words until I heard your voice… oh,  _fuck_.” I covered my face with my hands, mortified. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, darling.” He gently pulled my hands away from my face. “How about I read one more? Since you’re enjoying it so much.”

I was blushing to the tips of my ears and I saw his eyes sparkle with mischief as he surveyed my face. “Um… yes, sure.”

He flipped the pages slowly until he’d almost reached the end, then cleared his throat and started reading.

 _Love is too young to know what conscience is,_ __  
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?  
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,  
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.  
For, thou betraying me, I do betray  
My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;  
My soul doth tell my body that he may  
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,  
But rising at thy name doth point out thee  
As his triumphant prize; proud of this pride,  
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,  
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.  
No want of conscience hold it that I call  
Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

My breathing was shallow as he finished, the wetness pooling between my legs. He knew Shakespeare far too well – there was no way his selection was not entirely deliberate.

Sonnet 151. Known as the most overtly sexual sonnet.

I gave him a tight smile, trying not to betray my arousal. “Well, that was… certainly an interesting choice for your final reading of the evening.”

“I thought it was appropriate, under the circumstances,” he whispered, drawing close to me. “Darling, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you showing me this. But I was wondering if perhaps I could see a bit more.”

His face was inches from mine, his eyes fixed on my lips. “I think so,” I breathed. “Is there something you’d like me to take out for you?”

He gave a dark chuckle. Then, he leaned in and kissed me softly, one hand stroking my hair, his stubble brushing against my cheek. I closed my eyes and parted my lips, allowing his tongue to invade my mouth and tangle with mine as he pulled me closer.

Suddenly I pulled back, breathing hard. My heart beat fast and my stomach did backflips as I realized this was actually going to happen. “I’m going to put the Quarto away now.”

“A wise idea.”

I picked it up and quickly deposited it back in the special drawer where we kept it, then turned around. He had shifted in his chair so he was facing me, legs splayed out, drawing my attention to the prominent bulge now displayed at his crotch. I gave a little gasp.

“Come here.” His voice was dark with desire, and I felt my clit throb as wetness shot down to my core. I walked over and stood about a foot in front of him, trembling slightly. He raked his gaze over me, then gave me a wolfish smile. “Would you strip for me, darling?”

I closed my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing. I turned around and unzipped my dress for him, slowly, glancing over my shoulder to see his pupils dilate as I revealed myself. The fabric pooled at my feet, and I kicked it to the side as I turned to face him. I undid my bra clasp, and pushed the straps off my shoulders one at a time, before letting it fall away completely to reveal my breasts.

I leaned down to take off my shoes, but he reached a hand out. “Can you leave the heels on?”

I smiled and nodded. Then I turned to one side as I hooked my thumbs into my panties, pulling them down slowly, letting him watch as my back arched and my bare ass was thrust in the air. Once they were off, I pushed them over to the side with my dress and faced him once more.

“Stunning,” he murmured.

“Thank you.”

He leaned over and gripped my waist, pulling me to him and kissing my breasts and belly. He moved a hand between my legs and smiled into my skin.

“Dear God, you’re so  _wet_ …”

“It’s all that poetry,” I replied as I ran my fingers through his hair. “Sonnet 151, you dirty boy.”

“It’s the most romantic way possible to tell someone you have a raging hard-on for them,” he laughed as he looked up at me. “Speaking of, you asked if there was anything you could take out for me…”

I dropped to my knees between his legs and stroked him over the fabric of his trousers. “I did. Allow me…” I unzipped him and extracted his dick, which was rock hard and… considerably large. I stared at it for a minute, wondering how I was going to handle this.

“Would you… I mean… can we…   _oh._ ” I had gripped his shaft lightly and was swirling my thumb in the fluid at the tip.

“What would you like, Tom?”

“I… can I… can I have you on the table?”

I smiled, still working him gently with my hand. “Do you want my mouth first?”

He stared at me as if waging an internal battle, then shook his head. “No, I… don’t want to finish too quickly… and I want you to get yours…”

I stood up and licked his precum off my fingers; he gave a soft moan at the sight. Then I sat down on the edge of the table and spread my legs. He stood up and quickly removed his clothes; his white button-down and black trousers joined my abandoned dress in the corner. I was surprised at the taut muscles revealed on his torso and ran my fingers over him as he crushed his lips to mine. His erection pressed insistently into my belly as he cupped and fondled my breasts, our kisses growing deeper every minute. He nipped at my bottom lip and I moaned into his mouth; I felt him pushing me backward, slowly, until I was lying flat on the wooden table. He positioned himself at my entrance and started to push in.

I cried out at the intrusion, my eyes slamming shut as I felt him slowly fill me. The scent of old books and swirling dust mingled with sweat and arousal as he sheathed himself deep inside of me. He grabbed one of my legs and positioned it over his shoulder before pulling out and thrusting back in.

His rhythm was slow at first, and I felt him reach down to pinch and play with my swollen clit. I reached up to grip the edge of the table, which was rocking back and forth precariously as he started fucking me harder. He suddenly pulled out and ran the tip up and down my slit, teasing me as his fingers still worked my sensitive nub. He pushed in again, and I clenched my muscles around him; he stilled for a moment, breathing hard.

“Lily, you are… marvelous… oh God…”

“Tom… I need more… don’t stop…”

“You feel so good, darling,” he moaned, circling his hips and grinding against me.

“Tom, please… harder… fuck me harder,” I panted.

He gritted his teeth and obeyed, slamming into me, his cock hitting places inside me I’d never even known I had. I squeezed my eyes shut and gave myself over to the pleasure; his fingers still twisted and rubbed my clit, his pace quickening as his hips crashed into me over and over.

I was  _so close_ …

“Lily… Lily… come for me… please come for me,” he growled. He pressed down one last time on my clit, hard, and I screamed as my orgasm hit, my cunt clamping down on him as my whole body pulsed in ecstasy. His thrusts became shorter and faster, and he braced his hands against the table as he neared his finish.

“Oh…  _ah… fuck_!” he cried out, pulling out of me just as he came, his come shooting out onto my stomach as he stroked himself desperately. As the last of his orgasm dripped onto me, I felt myself finally come back to earth, my brain still fuzzy, my limbs heavy and boneless. He fell back into a chair, breathing hard, sweat rolling down his gorgeous face.

We stayed there for a few moments; he reached up for my hand and laid a hot, open-mouthed kiss on it before holding it to his heaving chest. My brain finally started working again.

“Tom,” I whispered. “Could you grab the paper towels from the closet?”

He nodded, pushed himself up, and walked over to the cleaning supplies. I took a moment to appreciate the firm musculature of his ass, then I glanced down at the pearly white come that had pooled on my belly. He tore off a paper towel and placed the roll on the table before he began cleaning me off.

“Tom, I can get it…”

“No,” he replied, a smile of satisfaction playing on his lips. “I made a mess of you, I can clean up after myself.”

I giggled. “You did indeed make a mess. And you may have ruined me for other men. I’ve never slept with a guy before who recited Shakespearean sonnets before we fucked.”

“Well, if I’ve ruined you for other men, you may have ruined the Sonnets for me.” He finished wiping up the remnants of his climax and leaned down to kiss me. “I’ll never be able to read them again without thinking of you.”

“Good.” I smiled as I kissed him back.

“ _If this be error and upon me proved…”_ he whispered.

 _“I never writ, nor no man ever loved,”_  I finished.


End file.
